We’ve all done it. Gone to a bookshop and bought a book, even though there’s a huge pile of books next to our bed, waiting to be read. If you’ve ever been unable to explain the phenomenon, though, fear not. There’s a Japanese word for it.

That word is tsundoku (積ん読). It comes from combining the phrase 積んでおく (tsundeoku; to pile up, to accumulate) with 読書 (dokusho; reading). The fact that tsundoku is only one sounds away from tsundeoku, but is written with different kanji, is a nice piece of Japanese word play.

Surprisingly, perhaps, this is not a new word. It’s been around since the Meiji Period (明治時代; meiji jidai), when the new government was determined to improve the literacy rate (識字率; shikijiritsu) of the country. This plan, called the Imperial Rescript on Education, was wildly successful, and Japan now enjoys one of the highest literacy rates in the world.

So next time you go to a 本屋 (hon’ya; bookshop), don’t try to 我慢 (gaman; be patient) your way through your book desire. Embrace your inner tsundoku.

Meet Sento-kun. He’s the mascot for Nara City.

What is Sento-kun, you ask. He’s a young boy with the antlers of a 鹿 (shika; deer). Anyone who has been to Nara (奈良) will know why this is relevant—we all have vivid memories of being chased by hungry deer looking for a quick and easy meal.

Sento-kun is just one of many ゆるキャラ (yurukyara) that have popped up in Japan over the past few years. There’s no good English translation for the word, but ‘mascot’ comes pretty close. They’re little characters based on famous symbols and imagery of local areas. Like many good contemporary Japanese words, ゆるキャラ is a combination of two others: 緩い (yurui; loose) and キャラクター (kyarakutā). ‘Loose’ refers to the loose style in which these characters are created.

Yuru-kyara

After years of campaigning, Mt Fuji (富士山; Fuji san) has finally been listed by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site (世界遺産; sekai isan). It joins a long list of other sites around Japan, including Yakushima (屋久島) and Itsukushima Shrine (厳島神社; Itsukushima jinja).

What makes the listing of Mt Fuji unique is that is has been listed as a cultural site (文化遺産; bunka isan), not as a natural site (自然遺産; shizen isan). UNESCO named it a “sacred place and source of inspiration” for artists in both Japan and the rest of the world. Even a brief look at Japanese art and literature reveals the impact this mountain has had on Japanese culture and aesthetics.

In the Japanese fairy-tale, The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter (竹取物語; taketori monogatari), Mt Fuji is seen as the gateway to heaven, a place where the mortal and supernatural meet. Regarded as one of the earliest science fiction stories in the world, this tale has inspired the next Studio Ghibli film.

Mt Fuji inspired ukiyo-e (浮世絵) artists to create some of the most recognisable images in all Japanese art.  The works of both Hokusai (北斎) and Hiroshige (広重) based on 36 views of Mt Fuji remain some of the most loved pieces for their simplicity and striking use of landscape and colour.

Have you heard of Honda Keisuke (本田圭佑)? How about Kagawa Shinji (香川真司)? If youhaven’t, you probably will soon. Japan is headed to Brazil in 2014 for the World Cup (W杯; W-hai), and these two are just a handful of famous Japanese players leading the charge.

Though there is no official nickname for the national team (日本代表; Nihon daihyō), it is usually known by the surname of the current coach—hence Zach Japan, for current Italian coach, Alberto Zaccheroni. He has led them since 2010.

Though they have never made it to a grand final (決勝; kesshō), let alone a quarter-final (準々決勝; junjun kesshō), Japan is serious about winning a World Cup. The JFA (日本サッカー協会; nihon sakkā kyōkai) even has a 100 year “vision” (百年構想; hyaku nen kōsō) for the sport.

Food is kind of a big deal in Japan. A cursory glance at any travel guide will guide you not just to tourist sights and museums, but to the best places to eat the region’s meibutsu (名物; local specialty).

Meibutsu are so important, they often become symbols for entire parts of Japan: consider Osaka’s takoyaki (たこ焼き; fried octopus dumplings), Aomori’s ringo (りんご; apples), or Fukuoka’s tonkotsu ramen (とんこつラーメン), as well as the yuru kyara (ゆるキャラ; mascot) they’ve spawned.

Kagawa-ken, in north-east Shikoku, is famous for its sanuki udon (讃岐うどん). It is so famous for them, the local J-League team, Kamatamare Sanuki, has a bowl of udon on its crest.

The Kagawa-ken government think their meibutsu is so great, they’ve launched a new marketing campaign, changing signs to read うどん県 (Udon Prefecture). If the ad is anything to go by, most people seem bemused by the whole thing.

Did you know that Japan has a national fungus (国菌; kokkin)? Nope, neither did we.

It turns out that kōji, or Aspergillus oryzae, is the mould that makes fermentation of rice possible, giving us sake (酒) and shōchū (焼酎). Sadly, it is also the mould that makes fermentation of soya beans possible, giving us nattō (納豆).

For many years, kōji has been mixed with salt to make shiokōji (塩麹), a sauce that people have used on their fish or vegetables. But in the last few years, shiokōji has become the condiment of choice for discerning gourmands.

Kōji has become so popular it appeared as a major character in a manga and anime called Moyasimon (もやしもん), which details the life of a university student who can talk to micro-organisms. Not only that, last year, Mos Burger released a limited-edition shiokōji burger.

If you’re super keen to try this taste sensation, head to your local Japanese grocer for a jar. Or make it yourself with this handy YouTube demonstration.